


too much (yet never enough)

by Significant_What



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Religious Content, Soft Boys, Strangers to Lovers, lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Significant_What/pseuds/Significant_What
Summary: ”So basically”, Will continues. He plays with Nico’s fingers the way he has wanted for ages, and Nico just holds his hand there for Will to play and explore. It’s rather fascinating. ”We both have enormous crushes in each other, and now we’re hiding in a bush during sister Greta’s history class, holding hands and talking about said crushes. I can already see the movie potential.”Nico giggles at that, honest to God giggles, and Will can’t bite back a breathless laugh, either. ”I’m not going to pay to see that movie unless they cast Judi Dench as sister Greta.”Nico is so ridiculous. Will likes him so much it feels like his heart is going to burst, and he really, really wants to kiss him. But on the other hand, Will thinks that Nico deserves something better than behind the bushes during history class as his first kiss, and so he just leans in to press their foreheads together, instead. He can feel Nico’s eyes blow wide open, and the giggling stops, and wow, this is a lot more intense than Will anticipated.





	too much (yet never enough)

**Author's Note:**

> (Yeah, I like to write the non-linear narrative. Sue me. Or maybe don't, I'm poor.)
> 
> I wish to note that I'm not a teenage boy in a Catholic school so I have no idea how things really work. I'm also not really Catholic at all, so I hope I got facts right.
> 
> This work is not supposed to offend anyone. I've tried to simply show two different ways to grow up gay in a religious home. Please let me know if I somehow majorly fucked up.
> 
> Also! There is a non-explicit sex scene, and if that's not your cup of tea, you can easily skip it by just jumping to the next time skip. You'll know when.

**_present day_ **

 

Sometimes, Will thinks as he stares at the incoming call on his phone screen, life hits you in the face when you least expect it to.

He should have at least changed the picture. Will sits there in his kitchen on a Sunday morning, a half empty cup of coffee in front of him, and stares at an old picture of Nico di Angelo as it blinks on the screen in time with the ring tone. It’s the one Nico took in secret, stealing Will’s phone while he was asleep and setting it to his contact picture without saying a word. Will remembers seeing the picture for the first time, the way his heart squeezed in his chest so painfully.

It still does. Will has to place a hand on his chest, as if that could ease the pain a little. It doesn’t, really.

The phone keeps ringing, and Will knows he should answer it soon. Or should he? It’s been so long, and a part of him really wants to talk to Nico. Another part wants to chuck the phone and hide under his bed, possibly forever. But he’d still need to go to class in the morning, so that wouldn’t work.

How are you supposed to pick up the phone when someone from your past calls? There was a time when Will wouldn’t have hesitated to answer when Nico’s number came up; he used to have a customized ring tone. Simon & Garfunkel. Nico used to hate that. Now Will’s phone plays Coldplay even on Nico’s number, and he can’t help but think that it seems wrong, somehow.

Will’s hand shakes when he takes the phone and holds it to his ear.

”Nico?” Will hates how his voice trembles. He holds the phone in a death grip and his palm is sweaty. It feels like his heart might beat out of his chest any second now.

On the other end, Nico lets out what sounds like a relieved sigh. ”Will, hi.” Oh god, Will is not prepared for this at all. The sound of Nico’s voice hits him like a wave of flashbacks, things he has spent so long to try and forget, things he still thinks about constantly. ”I wasn’t sure you’d pick up." 

Will wants to be offended about that. He really does.

”Yeah.” But he really can’t, can he? Because – ”I wasn’t either.”

There’s a silence. Will doesn’t really know if it’s awkward or not. He feels a little awkward, he thinks, but on the other hand, silences with Nico never used to feel awkward. Will can remember entire days spent in silence, just listening to the other breathe, the calm only broken by an occasional sniff or sigh or turn of page. Those used to be Will’s favorite silences. Maybe they still are. He hasn’t had a silence like that in years.

Nico clears his throat. ”I’m glad you did, though.” There’s something very vulnerable in his voice. Will can’t really blame him about that, he feels pretty vulnerable himself. But when Nico speaks again, his voice leaves Will cold and aching. ”Because I would really like to talk to my best friend right now.”

Nico sounds broken. Broken in a way he had on that day six years ago. Will has been haunted by that voice for years, it has come to his sleep, it has lurked in the back of his head in his darkest moments. When he hears it now, he can almost see Nico’s face crumbling when the tears break out without permission. Will remembers it too clearly, and he really wants to end the call. It’s too much.

But he still loves Nico, so much. He always has; Nico is his person, his _best friend_. They had been friends since before they could walk, so long before they were anything else, and that will always stay with Will, through everything. And right now Nico sounds so small, so broken, and he needs his friend. No matter what happened between them romantically, no matter how much this is probably going to hurt, their friendship will _always_ come first.

(And yes, this is going to hurt. Will knows this, because it already hurts. It hurt when he saw Nico’s picture, it hurt when he heard his voice – it’s going to hurt a whole lot more before this is all over.)

”I’m here, Nico”, is what Will says, because he is; he’ll always be there for Nico, no matter how much it hurts him in the process. ”What’s going on?” He can still hear the slight tremble in his voice, can feel the tightness in his throat, but right now there are more important matters.

Like the sound of Nico’s voice, gasping for air as he chokes, ”My father’s dead, Will.”

 

 

 

**_ten years ago_ **

 

Will is at the spot one minute before Nico. He always is, and when he turns his head to the right he can see Nico from the moment he opens his front door and sprints towards Will. Nico’s hair is unruly and his tie hangs in his neck unfastened, and Will knows he’s going to have to remind Nico to tuck his shirt in before they get to the school premises. This is nothing new, and Will shakes his head fondly when Nico fumbles with the dark blue tie as he walks.

”Father hired a new chef”, Nico says as a way of both greeting and explanation. ”Breakfast was fifteen minutes late, and then father called her to the dining room for a lecture and I wasn’t allowed to leave.” Nico manages a decent knot, then seats himself on the back of Will’s bike. ”Having a chef is such a hustle. Sometimes I really wish we were just ordinary people, like you.”

Will rolls his eyes and kicks the ground, taking off down the road. ”Gee, thanks.”

”You know what I mean.” Without looking, Will knows Nico’s ears are red. Will thinks it’s kind of adorable. Not that he’ll ever say that out loud. ”I just wish we didn’t have a chef and a maid and all those other people father treats like trash. I could totally make my own breakfast, and I don’t think father actually is too busy to take his suits to the dry cleaner’s like everyone else.”

Of course Will knows what he means. They’ve talked about this before. It comes up almost every time Nico spends the night at his house; how Nico wishes his father were half as warm as Will’s, or how he doesn’t know if his mother even knows how to cook. Will’s family is so different from Nico’s, and having dinner with Mr and Mrs di Angelo always feels like what Will has always imagined dinner with the president must feel like, stiff and formal and so quiet. Sometimes Will likes to imagine Nico’s parents joining them in his house, with Will and his parents and three brothers and grandmother, and it always makes him laugh.

”Let’s face it, though”, Will says with a smirk and turns left. He can see Jake from here, just a few blocks ahead of them. ”You _so_ couldn’t make your own breakfast. You’d be starving by day three, and then I’d have to bring you breakfast to school.”

”I could too!” Nico slaps Will’s shoulder, and if they hadn’t been doing this for years already it would have startled Will off balance. Not it just makes Will snicker. ”I’m not as helpless as Bianca makes it sound! And your Grandma has taught me a lot.”

Will doesn’t mention that PB&J doesn’t have enough nutritional value to be considered real breakfast. Instead they ride in silence for a while, Nico dragging his feet on the road every once in a while and once or twice bumping his head on Will’s shoulder. Will doesn’t mind. Nico will never admit it, but he’s a little touch starved, and even though full on hugs are rare and besides a tabu, shoulder bumps are constant. Nico likes to sit close to Will on the bleachers and brush their shoulders together when walking down the halls, and Will likes it.

(Will kind of likes Nico, in general, and that thought makes him blush. He’s glad Nico can’t see his face. He doesn’t want to make things weird.)

”Bianca is thinking about joining the army”, Nico says quietly when they’re just two blocks away from school. This is where they usually stop to walk the rest of the way, and Will steers to the side of the road. ”She said so during breakfast. Father was mad, he said they’d have a _discussion_ tonight.”

Nico doesn’t look at Will when they dismount the bike. He looks at his shoes and kicks the gravel, and then hastily tucks in his shirt before taking a hesitant step towards the school. Will joins him, bushing the bike between them, and wondering if there’s something he should say. He knows how much Bianca means to Nico, and even though it has never been explicitly stated, Will also has a pretty good idea what a discussion with Mr di Angelo means. Not physical abuse, never that, but Will’s uncle is a psychiatrist, and Will knows that words can hurt just as much as fists, sometimes more.

They’re almost at the school gates when Nico stops and takes a hold of Will’s jacket sleeve, making him stop too. ”I don’t want her to go”, Nico says. ”Not now. Not when mother is so sick.”

Mrs di Angelo barely leaves the house anymore. Will has only seen her three times this spring, always from a distance, and always walking to the car. Their chauffeur has always closed the door before Will can see, but Nico has told him that she looks very tired. Will’s dad says cancer does that to people.

Will wonders if Nico’s mother is going to die. It seems possible, now. Will thinks Nico might know that, too, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t complain about going to church as much as Will does anymore. Will looks at Nico, who looks at the ground still, and thinks that Nico must be the strongest person he knows. He wouldn’t be handling it this well if his mom or dad was that sick.

Even though he knows it’s probably not the right thing to say, Will places a hand on Nico’s shoulder and says, ”It’s going to be okay.”

Nico shakes his head and takes another step towards the school, then stopping again. ”You can’t know that.”

Will knows that, and Nico knows that Will knows. So they stay quiet for a minute, then walk the rest of the way to school, and when they walk through the door to their home room Nico bumps his shoulder to Will’s. It’s going to be okay.

 

 

 

**_present day_ **

 

Will had thought hearing Nico’s voice after so long was intense, but actually seeing him, even through a coffee shop window, is somehow even worse. In hindsight, he really should have seen that coming.

If someone had asked Will a week ago, he would have told them he’s over Nico. It’s been six years, and Will is an adult, and hell, he’s even dated a few guys since then. Sure, he’s over Nico. He barely even thinks about him anymore, except for when he watches his favourite movies or hears Metallica on the radio or eats strawberries. It’d be really troublesome if Will still constantly thought about his high school boyfriend, especially while he was in a relationship with someone else.

(That particular relationship didn’t last very long. Paolo said they didn’t belong together because he was sure Will was in love with someone else, no matter how much Will denied it. It seemed ridiculous, and it wasn’t until Will realized he wasn’t really all that hurt about the break up that it occurred to him that maybe Paolo had a point.)

Now, though. Now Will stalks Nico through the window and understands how he is so not okay. In retrospect, Nico really hasn’t changed that much. His hair is shorter, neatly cut from the sides and longer and still curly on top. He still seems to wear dark clothes, although that can be an unconscious decision connected to his low state of mind. Will can’t see clearly through the window, but it looks like Nico has a stubble, and it’s so strange to see because somehow during the past six years, Nico stopped being a teenager, too.

Will wants to panic. He wants to turn around and bolt, he doesn’t want to go in there and order a coffee and sit down with Nico. It’s too much. _It’s too much_. But Will promised, he made a promise as a best friend to come see Nico, and that weights so much more than unresolved tension and a broken heart.

So Will takes a deep breath and walks in. Nico looks up when he hears the bell chime above the door, and waves him over. And oh, that face. Nico has matured, his cheekbones are more pronounced and his jaw is sharper than Will remembers, and even with the dark circles under his eyes he looks so good Will’s knees feel weak.

It feels so natural, if maybe a little strange, to lean in and hug Nico like they used to. Nico is warm, just like Will remembers, but his muscles feel a little harder against his hands. The arms Nico wraps around Will’s torso are a little stronger, hold Will a little tighter, and the stubble that scratches Will’s cheek is definitely new. But it’s still Nico; it’s still the same height difference, the same tickle of black hair against his skin, and under the cologne even the same smell that is so undeniably Nico that Will has to swallow a lump that forms in his throat.

”I’m so glad you could come”, Nico says, and the feel of his breath against Will’s skin is just _too much_. Will takes half a step back, but smiles so Nico knows he didn’t really do anything wrong.

”Of course I came.” Will takes a quick look at the table, where he already sees two coffees and two toasts ready. ”What – ”

”Oh.” Nico sits down and folds his hands in his lap. He used to do that before, too, every time he was nervous or anxious. ”I – I already ordered. I’m sorry, I should have asked – I just, it was easier? This way?”

Will looks at the cups on the table. Nico has a black coffee, because of course he does, and a toast with tuna and, Will guesses, pickles. He sits down across from Nico and takes a sniff of the other cup, and when he does he can’t help but smile a little. ”Caramel latte?”

”With cinnamon”, Nico confirms, still looking down and his hands. ”And a chicken barbeque toast. I wasn’t sure – I just assumed, I’m sorry – ”

”It’s okay.” Will doesn’t know what it means, that Nico still remembers his order so precisely, down to the extra cinnamon. He isn’t sure he wants to know, and really, this isn’t the time anyway. ”Still my favorite. Don’t worry about it.”

They sit in silence for a while, and Will decides that yes, this is a little awkward. Nico looks like hell, like he hasn’t slept in a week and barely had energy to shower this morning. His shirt is rumpled at the collar in a way his clothes never were when Will knew him before, and the haircut can only hide so much neglect – Will is pretty sure Nico hasn’t combed his hair in ages.

Will really can’t say he’d look any better himself if it was his dad who died.

”How are you doing?” Will asks, and he can hear how stupid the question is even before it leaves his mouth. Of course Nico isn’t doing well. How could he? Wasn’t that already established yesterday on the phone?

But Nico understands anyway. Will has always liked that about Nico, the way Will can say whatever crazy thing his brain tells him to and Nico will understands anyway. ”I think I’m going to be okay”, Nico says, then takes a slow sip of his coffee. Will picks at the toast on his plate. ”I’m not, I mean, not yet. But I think that I’m going to be.”

Will nods, and they fall into a brief silence again. Will takes a bite of his toast and thinks about the many afternoons he spent with Nico in a similar coffee shop, doing homework and playing footsie under the table when they were sure no one was paying attention. The thought makes Will draw his feet under his own chair, just in case his muscle memory decides to act up.

Even though Will tries not to, his mind constantly brings back memories he has tried not to think about. And not just the things they did when they were together, even though those do hurt the most. No, Will also remembers the times they made sandwiches with Grandma and had a picnic on the nearby play ground. And the times Bianca chased them around the school yard after Nico stole her diary. And the times they stayed up until two a.m. and read comic books under the blanket with one of them holding the flashlight.

Will likes remembering that. For some reason when he has blocked memories of Nico during the years, he has also blocked the things they did when they were just kids. Maybe it was too painful, back when he started. Maybe it’ll be too painful again. But right now, sitting across from Nico in the coffee shop and eating a toast that tastes like Wednesdays and algebra homework, it’s actually rather nice.

”How’s your family?” Will can guess how they’re doing, but he has to ask. ”Are they coming to the funeral?”

”Bianca’s coming from Afghanistan, but she can only stay for a couple of days.” Nico runs a hand over his face and through his hair, and Will is hit with a new flash of memories; late nights cramming for tests, heart-to-heart discussions on the hood of Will’s dad’s car, the day all they did was sit in the hospital because Hazel needed a new kidney and Nico’s father was out of town. ”Hazel has classes, and she can’t skip any more, but she’ll be here Thursday next week.”

Will nods. ”What about Marie?”

Nico picks up his cup but then puts it down again without taking a sip. ”She… she died. Three years ago.” Will can see Nico swallow, and his own heart feels tight. ”Car accident. It was a hit and run.”

No matter how much Will tries, he will never understand how the universe seems to think that throwing all the bad things at one person is a good idea. Nico has already suffered so much. First a dead mother, then apparently a dead step-mother, too, and now his father? What part of this is fair? What has Nico done to deserve this?

Nico is pretty much the best person Will has ever known. Yes, he was a grumpy teenager, but he had a good reason, and really, everyone is at least a little grumpy at fifteen. Still, Nico has always been kind, and caring, and gentle, and Will can remember at least four separate occasions when Nico helped a wounded animal or a lost kid. Nico is so good, and he has such horrible things happened to him, and Will just can’t understand how any of that is fair.

Will has an almost irresistible urge to get around the table and hug Nico to his chest, the way he would have when they were still together. Nico looks like he might actually need that, the physical contact, the concrete feeling of being held and cared for. Will wonders when was the last time someone held Nico the way he is supposed to be held.

Will bites his cheek and sits tight. It’s not his job anymore to hold Nico. He feels like he’s already crossing the line when he reaches out to cover Nico’s hand with his own.

”I’m so sorry, Nico.” Will knows saying _sorry_ never helps, but he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s times like these when he wishes he took that extra course on counselling.

Nico looks at their hands on the table, and Will looks at Nico. The whole situation is weird and depressing and painful, so when Nico turns his hand and links his fingers with Will’s it barely makes any difference anymore. Yeah, they’re holding hands now. Okay. They were holding hands long before either of them acknowledged any deeper romantic feelings to the other. Sure, they were kids then, and kids hold hands all the time, but that’s whatever.

”Thank you, Will”, Nico says, his soft voice barely high enough to carry over the low buzz of the coffee shop. ”You’re always so good to me. Makes me feel so awful to ask any more of you.”

Will really, really hopes he isn’t ruining this... whatever this is when he squeezes Nico’s hand slightly. ”Whatever it is, I’m here. I’m always here, Nico.”

Nico looks troubled, but when he looks up Will tries to show him with his eyes that it’s okay. Because even though they aren’t really anything at the moment, except for maybe friends, somehow, Will is always going to consider Nico his best friend.

”I was hoping”, Nico starts, and then his face crumbles the same way it did over the phone yesterday, and Will squeezes his hand again. ”God, I’m such a mess. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t have the faintest idea how to organize a funeral. Will, I – ” And Nico looks so broken, so vulnerable, and Will’s heart breaks all over again because how dare the universe hurt this man so much. ”I need your help. I don’t even know where to start.”

Will has known Nico since they were in diapers, and so he has seen him cry many times. When Nico’s mother died when they were fourteen, Nico had cried so helplessly Will himself had felt like the world was going to end. It had been devastating, and Will had sworn to do anything to keep Nico from crying like that again.

And here they are, in the middle of a busy coffee shop, and Will can see the same look in Nico’s eyes again. There are already a few tears making their way down Nico’s cheeks, and his eyes are rimmed red, and his lip is wobbling, and Nico has never been a particularly pretty crier but right now Will thinks he’s unfairly beautiful, in the middle of all this. And all Will can do is hold his hand and promise, promise that he’s going to help, that he’s going to take care of Nico.

Nico gives him a shaky smile, and that’s a lot more than Will thinks he deserves.

 

 

 

**_nine years ago_ **

 

Holding hands is kind of thrilling. (Will can hear how lame that sounds as soon as he thinks it, and yet he can’t stop grinning like an idiot.) It’s at least a thousand times better than pining, that’s for sure.

Nico’s hand is warm. It’s also almost alarmingly dry, and Will has half a mind to dig around for his hand cream. But that would mean he’d have to let go of Nico’s hand, and he is so not doing that. They’re in the middle of something big here, and God forbid for Will to ruin it for some dry skin.

(But Will cares about Nico’s wellbeing, so he’s going to find that hand cream later. Just not right now.)

Will looks up and meets Nico’s eyes, seeing there the same nervous joy that he can feel in his own heart, slowly breaking free of years of repressed thoughts and feelings. He smiles, biting his lip, and Nico smiles back with sparkling eyes before blushing terribly and looking down at their hands again. Will thinks Nico is extremely cute.

”So”, Will says quietly, making sure no one else would be able to hear, even if they were to pass the bushes they’re hiding in, ”what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a crush on me the size of the planet.”

It’s a low blow, to tease like that, especially since Will is crushing on Nico at least as badly, but he can’t help himself. Nico’s blush is so pretty, and when Nico tries to retrieve his hand Will gets an excuse to hold on twice as hard.  ”More like the size of the solar system, but yeah. Basically.”

It’s a dangerous business, talking about their crushes behind the school like this. Someone could hear them, and there’d be hell to pay. Will doesn’t even want to imagine what would happen to them if one of the sisters caught them; he’s heard enough rumors to make him fear sister Hannah for his dear life. And that’s even before his or Nico’s parents are told about any of this.

Will’s family is Catholic. Not quite Catholic enough to go to mass every Sunday like Nico’s family, but Catholic enough to let their sons be taught by nuns. It’s been a big enough thing for Will to come to terms with the fact that he may not in fact believe the same way the rest of his family does. He doesn’t know how to even begin to figure out now that he has feeling for a boy and those feelings seem to be returned. It’s thrilling, yes, but it also makes his heart beat painfully for more reasons than one.

And then there is Nico’s family. Will doesn’t know about Bianca, but he does know that Mr di Angelo is very devoted to his religion. Nico has complained about it on several different occasions. And to top it all off, Nico’s father is also old fashioned, meaning he has stated it clearly that he expects Nico to marry a nice girl young and give him grandchildren a year after the wedding. Will knows that Mr di Angelo took it really hard when Bianca joined the army last summer, because that went against the family structure he values and the goals he has established for both Nico and Bianca.

Will is maybe a little afraid of Mr di Angelo. Has been for as long as he remembers. He’s also pretty sure Nico knows this, but just in case he doesn’t, Will is going to keep quiet about it.

”So basically”, Will continues. He plays with Nico’s fingers the way he has wanted for ages, and Nico just holds his hand there for Will to play and explore. It’s rather fascinating. ”We both have enormous crushes in each other, and now we’re hiding in a bush during sister Greta’s history class, holding hands and talking about said crushes. I can already see the movie potential.”

Nico giggles at that, honest to God _giggles_ , and Will can’t bite back a breathless laugh, either. ”I’m not going to pay to see that movie unless they cast Judi Dench as sister Greta.”

Nico is so _ridiculous_. Will likes him so much it feels like his heart is going to burst, and he really, really wants to kiss him. But on the other hand, Will thinks that Nico deserves something better than behind the bushes during history class as his first kiss, and so he just leans in to press their foreheads together, instead. He can feel Nico’s eyes blow wide open, and the giggling stops, and _wow_ , this is a lot more intense than Will anticipated.

”I’m going to pull all the stops with you”, Will breathes, and he can feel Nico shiver when the air hits his face. Will can relate. He squeezes Nico’s fingers in his and tries to will his heart beat down. ”First date, bowling. Second date, dinner. Third date, movie and milkshakes with fries. No funny business before fifth date. We’re going to do this agonizingly slow, and you’re going to absolutely _love_ it.”

Nico doesn’t need to know that the main reason for stalling is that Will is terrified and has no idea what he’s doing. To be perfectly fair, Nico probably does know, being Will’s best friend and all, but just to be safe, Will isn’t going to mention it. Right now, Nico is watching Will with those eyes that Will swears can bring armies to their knees, and Will feels how he turns his hand in Will’s so that their fingers can lace together properly, will-nico-will-nico-will-nico. That, Will thinks, is not even regular hand holding anymore. It’s so much better.

”Does funny business include kissing?” Nico asks, so innocent that Will is almost fooled. ”Because you’re very conveniently close right now.”

It takes all of Will’s willpower to resist. ”For the time being, yes, it does.” He turns his head and nuzzles Nico’s cheek a little, barely touching the soft skin with the tip of his nose. ”But trust me, our first kiss is going to be epic. Not some rushed little peck when the bell is going to ring every moment and sister Greta is going to catch us.” 

Will has barely finished his sentence when the decades old school bell rings and makes them jump apart. Nico’s hand lingers in Will’s for a second longer, but then they have to get up and back to the yard and act like they’re not itching to reach out and touch.

(They kiss for the first time two weeks later, on what could be considered their third date. In the basement in Will’s house, Nico’s lips taste like strawberries and cream, and they kiss until they’re smiling so wide they can’t kiss anymore and they’re just pressing their smiles together like two idiots. Will loves every second.)

 

 

 

**_present day_ **

 

It turns out that Nico does, in fact, know what to do. Will’s job is mainly just make sure that he eats, sleeps, and showers.

Most of this is happening in Nico’s apartment, and Will is not entirely sure he’s comfortable with that. It feels strange to be this close to Nico again, in his space, when there are so many things left unsaid between them. On the first day, Will is careful not to touch anything, keeping strictly in the dining area of the joined living space, eyes mostly focused on his tablet as he helps Nico pick out caskets and flowers. When he leaves in the evening and tries to remember specifics about the apartment, all he can say for sure is that the table is painted wood.

A priest is there, on the second day. Will busies himself in the kitchenette, making tea and placing cookies on a plate. He has no intention on joining the conversation, but when he places the tray on the coffee table Nico looks at him so pleadingly he has no other choice but to join him on the couch.

”Father Finnick, this is Will Solace”, Nico introduces them, and Will nods to the priest. Nico’s hand on his wrist is probably supposed to feel thankful, but all it does is make Will painfully aware of the point of contact. ”He’s my best friend.”

Father Finnick smiles pleasantly, and he reminds Will of the nuns in their high school. It’s not a good memory, so he focuses on Nico’s hand still on his arm. He doesn’t dare move in fear of alerting Nico and making him retrieve his hand, and this makes Will feel bad, like he’s taking advantage. If he thinks of it too deeply, he’s going to make himself sick.

Will doesn’t take part of the conversation, letting Nico do the talking with father Finnick and only offering his silent support. Once Nico asks his opinion on a hymn, and Will chooses the one he remembers from sister Hannah’s music class. Nico gives a fraction of a smile at that, and Will’s heart stutters, and father Finnick’s eyes linger on their hands but he doesn’t say anything. When Nico says he’s not going to hold a vigil but does want a traditional funeral mass, Will is maybe a little surprised but holds his tongue. He remembers Mr di Angelo as a very religious man, and not taking all the steps doesn’t sound like something he would approve of. But a lot could have happened in the six years Will hasn’t been in contact with Nico.

Father Finnick leaves after a few hours, and then it’s just Nico and Will again. Will gathers the tea cups and plates on the tray, but Nico tells him to sit back down as he takes the tray to the kitchen himself, and Will stays behind the living room. He sits awkwardly on the couch, letting his eyes flicker on different things scattered around the room. Nico has a record player, and a plotted plant that’s seen better days. There’s a colorful quilt thrown over the back of an armchair, and Will recognizes it as the same one that kept them warm on colder winter nights when they were kids sleeping over at the di Angelo house.

Will gets up and walks by the armchair, resting his fingers gingerly on the quilt. It’s a little more worn out now than it was then, and that’s perfectly understandable. Will wonders if it still smells like it did back when they were ten years old, but then shakes his head. It’s a stupid thought.

Out of the corner of his eye Will catches the framed picture of Mr di Angelo on a side table. It looks formal, polished; Will remembers seeing portraits like that in the di Angelo house, featuring all members of the family. It is probable Will has seen this particular picture before, but there’s really no way to tell. In Will’s eyes Mr di Angelo always looked the same, year after year, not a hair out of place.

Next to that portrait is a family picture, with Nico as a child and Mrs di Angelo still alive. Will looks at the kid with a toothy grin and gets flashbacks of apple juice on back porches and snowball fights on the school playground. Then there’s a shot of Bianca in her military uniform, and Will can hardly recognize her. Next to that is a picture of Hazel, older than Will remembers, likely a recent shot. She’s grown to be so beautiful, Will thinks, remembering the twelve-year-old he met for the first time a week before her mother’s wedding to Mr di Angelo. She’s smiling slightly in the picture, her hair neatly on a ponytail, and she looks rather like her mother.

Will is about to turn on his heels and go help Nico in the kitchen against Nico’s previous wishes, when the last picture on the table catches his attention.

He hadn’t thought he’d see a picture of himself in Nico’s apartment. What reason would there be? True, Will has a picture of Nico on his desk, along with pictures of his brothers, but that’s different, because Will is a ruined man with a crush on someone he should have been able to let go years ago. What possible reason would Nico have to keep a picture of Will up there with his family?

It’s a good picture. Will is wearing his school uniform, as is Nico, and both of them have discarded their ties and rolled up their pant sleeves. They’re sitting on a rock wall by their old high school, Will recognizes the spot as the one next to the ice cream truck. It looks like it’s late spring, maybe, and Nico is ducking his head down. Will can only guess he’s laughing, judging from the way he himself seems to be laughing in the picture. For a moment Will can almost transfer himself into that moment, into simpler days when his biggest problem was that he couldn’t tell his parents he was gay.

”I didn’t know you had a copy of this”, Will says, to no one in particular, but apparently Nico hears and comes to see what he’s talking about. For some reason Will is sure, without looking, that Nico is blushing ever so slightly. ”Isn’t this from our year book?”

Nico comes to stand next to him and takes the frame into his hands. ”It’s actually a cut out.” To Will it sounds like Nico is embarrassed. At least according to his outdated knowledge of Nico’s moods. ”Jake Mason took it, I think. End of junior year. Sister Greta took us all out for ice cream, remember?”

Will does remember. Not sister Greta, or Jake Mason taking pictures, but Nico laughing at his own lame jokes and shaking so hard the ice cream dropped and stained his shirt. He remembers how happy he felt on that first day of summer, how the sun caught on Nico’s hair and made it look brown instead of black. Will remembers wanting to kiss Nico, so badly, and not being able to, and he remembers how they drove away in Nico’s car and took the long way home so they could stop for a while and make out on the back seat.

It makes Will swallow hard when the memories come back to him like a wave that smells like green grass and rocky road ice cream. He takes the picture frame from Nico’s hand and their fingers brush together, and it’s too much, and Will has to take a deep breath so he doesn’t do something he shouldn’t, like grab Nico by the shoulders and kiss him like he’s wanted to for the past six years.

”Could I have a copy of this?” Will asks, afraid of raising his voice above a whisper. He could lie and say he wants the picture for memory preserving reasons, maybe fake a hobby of scrapping, but he doesn’t. There’s too much emotions, too much history, too much _everything_ between them, and he’s at least a hundred per cent sure that Nico knows he just wants the picture because they look so good together.

Will should probably be embarrassed about that. It’s alarming to realize he isn’t.

”Of course.” Nico’s voice is warm, and it has a spark it hasn’t had in these past few days. He sounds a lot like the Nico Will loved so long ago.

Nico takes the picture to the printer, and Will watches as he takes a copy of what Will now sees is indeed a cut out from their year book. They don’t speak as Nico hands the warm piece of paper to Will, and their fingers brush again. It seems deliberate this time, and Will’s eyes flicker up to Nico’s face in search of something concrete to base his assumptions on. They’re standing closer than Will had originally thought, and it’s making his heart weak. Nico pointedly looks everywhere that isn’t Will, but doesn’t step back.

”I, uh”, Nico starts, wringing his hands together just like he used to back then, when he was nervous about something. ”I have others, too. If – if you’d like them. I could make copies and give them to you tomorrow, if you want.”

Will needs to _know_. He needs to know that Nico is thinking like he’s thinking, that they’re both hanging on threads and hoping beyond hope there’s still something there. He needs that so badly it takes a few seconds for him to understand how wrong the timing is, how much this is _not_ the time to try and woo your ex boyfriend.

”I’d love to”, is what Will says, and it’s just as well, because he’s already said too much and Nico probably thinks he’s a creep anyway.

Will leaves not long after, and once he gets home he replaces a picture of himself and Michael with the one he just got from Nico. And just because he puts the picture on his nightstand doesn’t mean he thinks about Nico as he’s falling asleep, that he dreams about the long days of summer they drove around and spent a night under the open sky. Having that picture on such a close proximity means Will wakes up sweaty, miserable, and alone, and he’s more than aware that he only has himself to blame.

 

 

 

**_seven years ago_ **

 

”I told my parents.”

Will watches as Nico’s head snaps up from his text book, eyes round and surprised. A little bit of Will is annoyed by this; he told Nico he was going to talk to them just yesterday, why is it such a surprise now? Did he think Will wouldn’t go through with it?

”And?” Nico’s voice is low, as is appropriate in the library, but it’s urgent. Will can understand that. ”Are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes, Will closes his note book and drops it on top of a stack of books. ”I’m pretty sure you would have already noticed if I wasn’t.” Then, realizing how unnecessarily rude he’s being, he kicks one foot out to touch Nico’s ankle with his socked toes. ”I’m okay. They were surprisingly cool about it. Not cool as in _let’s bake our gay son a rainbow cake_ , but cool as in _let’s not kick our son out just because he’s gay_.”

A little too late Will hears how much that sounds like a jab at Nico’s biggest fears. Nico has turned his eyes back to his book, but Will can tell he’s not really reading it. ”Well, good. That’s good.”

Unlike Will, Nico probably has real reason to fear about getting kicked out. His father and stepmother are far more strict in their beliefs than Will’s family is, so much so that Will himself has started to limit his visits to the di Angelo household, just in case. Will knows it’s hurting Nico in more ways than one, but there isn’t really much Will can do about it. He can be silently supportive, and he can offer a place to crash in case things take a turn to worse, and when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable and helpless, he can pray and hope there’s someone out there to hear him. But he can’t change Nico’s parents, or make Nico brave enough to face them about this.

Will supposes he’s lucky. His brother Michael has known about his sexuality for a while now, and Lee and Austin didn’t even bat an eye when he told them. Their parents took it hard, at first, and there were shouting and tears involved, but in the end they said that their love for Will outlasts their anger and confusion. Will isn’t sure he wants to tell Grandma yet, since she’s a little more old school, but even she isn’t the same way as the di Angelos.

”I’m sorry”, Will mutters and drags his chair on the other side of the table, so that he can press his knee against Nico’s. ”I didn’t mean it like that.” The way Nico presses his knee back ever so slightly tells Will it’s okay. ”Anyway, as I said, they’re kind of cool about it, so if we’re still on for a movie night on Friday…?”

Nico doesn’t answer right away, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Nico is a quiet creature, thoughtful and even philosophical at times, and Will is more than used to the long silences. They give Will a little time to think, himself.

Being Catholic has been hard on Will, lately. And not just because he’s dating a guy – he’s not entirely sure he believes in any of the things the nuns at school tell them. Sure, there must be something big out there, something otherworldly that is responsible of all this, because how else do you explain something like a platypus? But that doesn’t mean that something is God, at least not the kind that Will has been taught about.

Will watches as Nico fiddles with the cross he has in a delicate cold chain around his neck. He can understand why Nico holds onto his fate even when it beats him up emotionally. Believing in something like the God their families believe in is safe, and it gives structure, and Will can see the appeal. He understands wanting to feel connected to his roots, and the feeling of warmth and security he gets from listening to Grandma sing old psalms. But at the same time he can’t understand how a religion that focuses on love and forgiveness can at the same time spread hate on people like Will and Nico. How can they say God makes no mistakes and still say that being gay is one?

”I’m not sure yet”, Nico says, and Will is grateful, because he was starting to get angry again. This is happening more and more lately, Will getting angry at being Catholic and everything it represents. He’s glad he only has one more year before graduation. ”Can I think about it? I promise to tell you by Wednesday.”

Will tries not to take offence. It’s not like Nico is outright rejecting him. Plus, he can see why Nico is being cautious – he knows Nico is nowhere ready to come out to his family yet, and the thought of being exposed like that to Will’s parents must be jarring.

But he does take a little offence, and hates himself a little for it. But really, does Nico think that little of his family? They’ve known each other since they were babies, have practically been raised together. It hurts Will a little that if he can be out and open to his parents that Nico can’t do the same. (And yes, he knows it’s a little too soon to say _out and open_ when he’s barely been out for twenty-four hours. But he’s always been a little irrational, and this thing really bothers him for some reason.)

They finish their homework and pack their things, and Nico drives Will home. Will doesn’t have a car, his family can’t afford it, but Nico got one for his last birthday. It’s been a real blessing, to be honest, giving them an escape to find secret spots to make out. (A part of Will hates that they need to sneak around.) Nico drops Will off a few houses away from Will’s home, as is their habit, and leans over to the passenger’s seat to kiss Will.

Will likes Nico’s kisses. They’re always so soft, even when they tangle together on the back seat and trade kisses back and forth until their lips are tingly and bruised and they need to drive around for a while so their parents can’t tell. For someone who’s ever only kissed one person in his life, Nico is a really good kisser, and Will is more than happy to take full advantage of that as he leans in closer and parts his lips to taste Nico’s tongue. Nico sighs into the kiss, and Will likes that, too, and sometimes he really wishes they could be kissing all the time, without worrying about other people and their reactions.

”I should go”, Will breathes when he slips down to press his lips against Nico’s jaw instead. ”I promised I’d help Mom with dinner today.” Nico merely hums and holds his hand, seemingly not really keen on letting go yet. Will brushes a kiss to the corner of Nico’s mouth. ”I’m serious, Nico. Tell me to go already.”

”Don’t go”, Nico says and kisses Will again, and Will knows it’s going to take at least another ten minutes until he can leave. He’s not particularly sorry.

Will keeps texting Nico all through the evening, only stopping for dinner. He’s sure his mother takes notice, if the way she’s eyeing his phone is any indication, but she doesn’t say anything. She just keeps her lips shut thin and her look only borderline judging, and Will thinks that’s a win. He says so to Nico, but Nico doesn’t seem to wholeheartedly agree.

 

 

 

**_present day_ **

 

Will lets another one of Nico’s calls go into voice mail, and immediately hates himself.

It’s the evening before Mr di Angelo’s funeral mass, and Will knows that, traditionally, this is a big deal. Traditionally, they would be holding a vigil tonight, with eulogies and readings and sharing memories of Mr di Angelo, but for some reason Nico had decided against that. Will hasn’t wanted to pry, so he hasn’t questioned said decision, but it does make him wonder.

The past week has been intense. Will has seen Nico almost every day since that phone call, has been in and out of Nico’s apartment more times than he has dared to dream of in the past. They’ve shared meals, debated over Chinese take out and pizza, fallen asleep on the couch to wake up to the other spreading Nico’s old quilt over them. There have been long looks and one or two lingering touches, and Will has been going insane with all the signals. He’s so sure he’s not imagining the way Nico has inched closer to him on the couch, closer than is really necessary, but really, there’s no way to know for sure.

Mostly it feels like Will is taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable Nico, and that’s pretty much the last thing he wants to do. He is slowly coming to terms with the knowledge that, if given a chance, he’d be more than willing to get back together with Nico, and being around Nico is giving him a kind of sensory overload.

Hence the unanswered calls.

Will watches as the screen of his phone dims to black again after the third call in the past hour, then sighs and buries his face to his hands. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, that it’s unfair to Nico to avoid him like this without an explanation.  He feels terrible, more so than he has for ages, and he kind of wants to just skip the funeral tomorrow and avoid Nico for the rest of his miserable life. But Will knows he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did, so with a deep breath he picks up the phone and opens his call log.

The three missed calls glare at Will. Never before in his life has Will not answered when Nico has called, not once, not even last week when he was so sure he would.

Will doesn’t know if it’s guilt or because he’s pathetically in love, but he presses _call_ before he can back out.

”Will?” Okay, yes, it was definitely guilt. That much is evident when Nico sounds scared like a little kid when he picks up, and it wrenches Will’s guts.

”Hi, Nico.” Will wonders if Nico can hear the myriad of feelings in his voice. Maybe if he does he could tell Will what to do with them, because Will certainly doesn’t have any idea. ”You – you had called. I’m sorry I couldn’t pick up.”

It’s probably painfully obvious that Will has been avoiding Nico. Will hopes that Nico doesn’t take offence, but he understands if he does. He probably would, too, if the tables were turned. Will just really, really hopes that, once the funeral is over, they can remain in each other’s lives, and that one day he can explain everything, maybe apologize for every single thing he has done to hurt Nico. Maybe he should start making a list.

”It’s okay”, Nico says, even when Will knows it’s really not. ”I just…”

Will should probably be used to Nico trailing off in the middle of the sentence. He’s not, not quite, but he keeps quiet and waits for Nico to say what he wanted to say. That’s what he’s here to do, anyway. He’s supposed to be there for Nico. That’s why Nico contacted him in the first place.

”I know I said I didn’t want to hold a vigil, but…” Nico’s voice trails off, and Will has relearned himself with Nico’s moods and customs lately enough to know that he’s squeezing his eyes shut, possibly holding his phone in a vice grip. It breaks Will’s heart, just a little. ”But will you please come? Hazel is staying at the house with Bianca, but I can’t – I _can’t_ – ”

”I’m on my way”, Will says before he can think. He can’t listen to Nico like this. He has to do something. ”I’ll grab dinner. I’ll be there in half an hour. Okay?”

Nico’s answer is what sounds a lot like a sob.

Will packs an overnight bag and his funeral clothes and stops by a pizza place on his way to Nico’s. As he waits for the double cheese pepperoni, he’s acutely aware that he’s whipped, ready to run at Nico’s every beg and call. Surprisingly, Will is kind of okay with that, even though the situation is far from ideal. Will is almost resigned to spend the rest of his days acting as Nico’s lapdog, begging for scraps, because if that’s what it takes to keep Nico in his life, then it will absolutely worth it.

(No, it won’t. Will knows this train of thought is both dangerous and unhealthy, and that he should probably seek help. But he’s tired and hungry and he misses his best friend, so he just takes the pizza box and takes it to Nico’s apartment.)

 

 

 

**_six years ago_ **

 

The only thing worse than going to a graduation ceremony is going to a graduation ceremony with two hours of sleep and a broken heart.

Will thinks he should have seen it coming, really. They had been arguing for months, now, and always about the same thing. Will knows he’s just as much to blame as Nico is, even if it is Nico who said the final words, but the knowledge doesn’t make it hurt any less, nor does it make it easy to face Nico in the mass before the ceremony. Will tries to steel his heart and not look to his left, focusing instead on sister Hannah and the fact that her hair isn’t properly tucked under the veil and bandeau.

While Will hasn’t, for obvious reasons, said anything to anyone about breaking up with Nico, he wonders if the others can see something’s different. For as long as Will can remember, Nico and him have been inseparable. They have done everything together, spent every moment they could in each other’s company, never went for more than half a day without talking to each other. And yet this morning Will drove to the church with his parents and sat down next to Jake Mason, and he’s well aware Nico hasn’t spared him so much as a glance.

 _I probably deserve this_ , Will thinks and looks at the crucifix shining on sister Hannah’s neck. His own words from the previous night ring in his ears, and he can see how much they have hurt Nico. He knows he crossed a line when, in the heat of the moment, he called Nico a coward for not wanting to come out to his parents. He had regretted it the second the word left his mouth, but he had went on anyway. _Yeah, I deserve this._

But Nico had done his part. Calling Will pushy (which he, admittedly, perhaps was), and manipulative (which he definitely was not), and a control freak (which had hurt even more than the manipulative part). In theory, Will knows that Nico probably didn’t mean half of what was coming out of his mouth last night, but it had hurt, damn him, it still hurts, and Will just can’t walk up to Nico and smile like nothing happened. He needs space, probably a lot of it, and since Nico is leaving for Italy in a few days to visit family and Will is going to be halfway across the country when he comes back in a month, he’s going to get a lot of it.

 _I want you to leave_ , Nico had said last night, eyes shining with tears and shoulders shaking with repressed emotions, and Will had, in the middle of his own anger and hurt, thought that Nico looked so very beautiful in the low evening light. _I want you to leave, Will, because I don’t think I can look at you anymore. Please. Just go._

So Will had left, walked the few blocks home, and went straight to his bedroom, where he had spend the next five hours staring at the wall and not bothering to wipe away the tears that kept coming.

Sister Hannah gives them the mark, and the graduates get up and walk the isle and out of the church. Will genuinely hopes that this is the last time he has to step foot in a church. Despite his broken heart and blurry vision, something about stepping on the gravel outside the little church feels like a weight is lifting from Will’s shoulders.

That is, until his first reaction is to tell Nico about it and suddenly the walls are closing in on him again.

Will is the first to admit that he used to think him and Nico were forever. He could see their future together, with both of them getting the jobs they want and sharing an apartment in some bigger city, possibly getting a dog or a cat, eventually even having a family. He can still see it, even when they have broken up and just knowing that Nico is only ten feet away makes his insides burn. Will is sure the reality is only just sinking in, that he hasn’t truly understood the consequences of their fight yet, and he dreads the moment it all comes crashing down.

Will’s mother is there to take pictures, then. She dotes on Will, but he doesn’t really hear her, and arranges him to stand so that she can get the church on the background – just like every other parent, apparently. The man Nico’s father has arranged to take pictures is adjusting the lapels of Nico’s jacket on Will’s left side, and Will really just wants to go somewhere else.

”Oh, honey, go grab Nico”, Will’s mom says to his dad then, and that’s what snaps Will back to the reality properly. ”I want some shots of the boys together, looking so handsome – ”

”No!” Will is sure he’s never really raised his voice at his mother before, and maybe that’s why her look is so startled. From the corner of his eye he can see that Nico has jumped at his voice, too, and makes a conscious decision to keep his eyes on his family. ”Just… just take the pictures of me. Don’t get Nico. I don’t – we’re not…”

And how is he supposed to explain this? Will has been best friends with Nico since before they could walk, and suddenly, on the biggest day of their academic lives, he doesn’t want to take pictures together? Never mind what his parents have ever thought about the two of them dating; their falling out as best friends is probably a bigger shock to them.

”We’re not really talking. At all. Anymore.” Will knows he’s going to have to explain himself better, but he’s determined to do it later at home, where there’s no eavesdropping schoolmates or strict nuns or Nico. Thankfully, Michael seems to understand perfectly, because he grabs Austin and takes a few steps to block Will’s view of Nico, and Will can’t help but be a little grateful of that small gesture. He really doesn’t give his brothers enough credit.

They get the pictures taken, and Will’s parents still seem confused when Will hungs back while the two of them go give their congratulations to Nico. Will tries to keep his mind focused on the story Michael and Lee are telling him (probably to distract him), and he can tell Austin is glaring at Nico across the yard. A small, sadistic part of Will hopes Nico sees that and feels guilty, possibly guilty enough to come over and apologize, but the rational part knows that’s not going to happen. It probably shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does.

When they finally leave the church yard, Will can practically feel Nico’s eyes on his back. It takes a lot of effort, but he squares his shoulders, looks straight ahead, and doesn’t turn. He wants to feel proud. He doesn’t.

 

 

 

**_present day_ **

 

The funeral mass itself is a small and quiet affair. Will is there only to support Nico; he’s long since given up trying to fit himself in the mold the Catholic church offers him, and half the time he just wants to roll his eyes to the words spoken in the chapel. But Nico is trembling like a leaf, his hands are in tight fists, and when Will looks down he can see the familiar thin golden chain of his cross peeking between his fingers.

Hazel recites a psalm about shepherds and green fields, and Will watches from a few rows back as Nico’s shoulders shake. He knows now that Nico’s relationship with his father was difficult, but whatever the distance – emotional or physical – losing a parent must hurt. Will wants to take Nico somewhere quiet, somewhere where they can’t hear the organ play in minors, or father Finnick’s slow, deliberately sorrowful speech. But he stays put, because he knows that on some level Nico needs this, even if neither of them are very good Catholics anymore.

For the post-service reception, they all go to the old di Angelo house. Will has dreaded this moment for days, and now that it’s here he finds himself dragging his steps on the driveway.

It’s stupid, really. If someone should have any problem coming back to this house, it’s Nico. And maybe he does, maybe that’s why he didn’t join his sisters here last night, maybe that’s why he specifically asked Will to ride in his car so that they arrive together and Nico doesn’t have to spend a minute alone there.

But Will… well, Will is terrified of going in the house. Maybe it’s because, in Will’s mind, the di Angelo house represents everything he once feared. All the bad parts of being Catholic. Getting kicked out of your house. Having your parents disown you. It doesn’t help that it was here, in this house, that he and Nico broke up six years ago.

Will knows that it’d be unfair of him to be more afraid than Nico, so he straightens his back and follows Nico through the doorway to a hall that’s barely changed since Will walked out that last time. The carpet is new, sure, and there is a new portrait of the family on the wall, but Will swears the drapes are exactly the same, as is the whole layout of the room, and he feels smaller and smaller by every second he spends in the house.

As apparently the family cook as resigned shortly after Mr di Angelo’s death, Nico has ordered catering to take care of lunch. It’s salad and pastries, and it’s not bad, but Will doesn’t have an appetite. He stands close by as Nico greets everyone coming in, making sure he can get to him at the first sight of trouble. That’s what Will is there for, right? To help Nico get through this? For a moment, he feels little more than a bodyguard, but then Nico catches him looking and gives a small and tired but very grateful smile. It’s not too bad.

Of all the people in the house, Will only recognizes Bianca and Hazel. They hug and share a few words, but other than that Will is left to his own thoughts. Most of the people are Mr di Angelo’s business associates, according to Nico, and Will has no reason to make small talk. He’s not here for them. He’s here for Nico, and as much as he wants to bolt out and never step foot in this house again, he stays put.

It feels like the afternoon drags on for years. At one point Will has to force Nico to sit down and eat something, but that’s about as much as he can do all day. He’s starting to feel useless, an intrusion to something that’s supposed to be for friends and family only. But Nico had asked Will to come, had introduced him to father Finnick and called him his best friend. What kind of best friend would he be, if he gave in to his own desires and left without as much as a goodbye to anyone? Not a very good one, that’s for sure.

Will stays and watches as finally, one by one, the guests start to leave. He helps Hazel and Bianca clean up, letting their quiet chatter fill his ears with buzz he doesn’t really understand. He’s gathering some paper napkins in a trash bag when the woman walks in.

She’s small and petite, not much taller than Hazel, even in platform heels. Her long auburn hair is in a side braid, cascading down her shoulder a little too neatly. She’s wearing the tightest jeans Wilhas ever seen on anyone, and a flowy floral shirt that’s probably silk. While her make up is precise and what Will would call professional looking, it makes her look more like a doll than a human being.

Will dislikes her immediately. And that’s even before she latches herself on Nico’s arm like she belongs there.

”Nico, baby, you haven’t been returning my calls!” Her voice is shrill and it gives Will a headache. He places the trash bag on the table and watches as Nico subtly tries to detangle himself from the woman. ”I’ve been so worried! I had to ask around for _hours_ before someone new to give me this address.”

Hazel and Bianca have now also stopped cleaning and are standing near Will in the door way to the hall. While Bianca looks mostly confused and awkward, Hazel seems determined, and Will looks on as she puts on her most charming smile and walks up to Nico like she’s on a mission. Will has seen this before. Nico used to call it Hazel’s battle walk.

”Nico, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Hazel may be tired from the emotionally loaded day they’ve had, but her voice is sickly sweet and Will thinks he kind of wants to worship her. She offers her hand to the new woman. ”Hi, I’m Hazel. Nico’s sister.”

The woman (if she can be called that, she can’t be older than Hazel, and Will has trouble thinking of _her_ as an adult) takes the offered hand, but doesn’t let go of Nico, not even when Nico veru clearly takes half a step back. Will grits his teeth. ”I’m Darcy”, she says, and clearly tries to make her smile as charming as Hazel’s. She fails miserably. ”Nico’s girlfriend.”

Will doesn’t even have time to react when Bianca snorts. ”His _what_ now?”

”My _nothing_.” Nico finally manages to get away from Darcy. ”Absolutely nothing.” Will may not understand what’s going on, but he does note that by stepping away from Darcy, Nico is now closer to him. If Will were to reach his hand, their finger tips would touch. He kind of wants to do that. ”We’re in the same study group for French Lit. She’s been following me around for a while now. I don’t know where she got the idea that I’d be interested.”

Darcy pouts, and Will has to give her credit for not seeming overly discouraged by the harsh wording. ”You’ve been _flirting_ with me, silly. _That’s_ where.”

Will tries to imagine Nico flirting. Back in high school he was terrible at it, and even worse at noticing when someone else was flirting with him. It could, of course, be that Nico has learned in time, but Will wouldn’t be surprised if Nico had just been nice and oblivious.

Hazel’s charming smile is still in place when she gives Darcy’s hand an apologetic squeeze. ”Honey, I hate to break it to you, but he really isn’t interested.”

While Darcy’s face scrunches into an ugly frown and she yanks her hand back, Will sees Nico take another half a step back. Will meets him half way, and their shoulders brush. Will isn’t sure, but it almost seems like Nico is leaning towards him. Maybe he is; maybe it’s because Will has promised to be his rock today. Will may want to be Nico’s rock every day, but he’ll settle for just today if that’s what Nico wants.

”I’m sorry, but how would _you_ know?” Darcy’s voice is challenging. She sounds like someone who’s used to getting things her way. Will hates the type. They always have it too easy.

”Because I’m gay”, Nico answers in Hazel’s stead, and neither of his sisters even flinch. Will has never heard Nico say it out loud before, not ever. It was always a sore spot, a strain in how Nico held and saw himself, but now Will watches in awe as Nico stands with his head held high and announces it in a steady, calm voice. ”I’m gay, and no matter how much you try, I will never be attracted to you. Nothing personal. Just how these things go.”

Will makes a mental note to think about Nico’s mental growth later. Right now he needs to focus on the way Darcy’s face pales and she says, with a shaky voice, ”But I thought you said you’re Catholic.”

”And why would that mean I can’t be gay, too?” Nico crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his chin up. He’s defensive, rightfully so, and Will is mesmerized. ”Why would me being gay mean I couldn’t believe in God? Why would the fact that I believe in something mean I couldn’t be in love with another person, no matter the gender?” Will can sense that there has been a lot of thought put into these words, that Nico has gone through some pretty intense soul-searching in the past six years. Will is thoroughly impressed.

Darcy looks like she’s about to say something, but Nico keeps going. ”I don’t owe you an explanation. You barge in here like you have any right, on the day of my father’s funeral, and you have the nerve to upgrade yourself to a status you don’t have any right to. You have the nerve to question me on both my sexuality and beliefs, and I have had enough.”

It is then that Will notices the slight tremble on Nico’s shoulders. With a start he realizes that while Nico is acting all strong and confident and stands behind his words one hundred per cent, his grief is still raw and he doesn’t really have his emotions in check. And this right here, this is what Will is here for, to help Nico get through when he’s stumbling forward. Will finds his place again, and despite the situation it feels good.

Darcy seems to have noticed some of Nico’s trouble, too, because she takes a step forward, as if to come and comfort him. But Will steps in, too, putting himself slightly between Darcy and Nico, and effectively blocking her way. ”I think it’d be best for you to leave, now.”

Darcy turns her gaze to Will and squints like Will is something inconvenient that smells bad. ”And who the hell would _you_ be, then?”

”He’s my boyfriend”, Nico says quickly, grabbing Will’s hand and once again managing to throw Will off the loop. ”Now _leave_.”

Will hates the look of disgust Darcy shoots them before she leaves, but he’s seen many of those. He hates that he’s used to them. The door slams closed behind her, and as quickly as he reached for it, Nico drops Will’s hand and takes a step back, eyes wide and frightened like a scared forest animal. He keeps looking at Will’s hand, and Will feels speechless, out of order, unable to move a muscle. It’s like he’s lost control of his body entirely.

”I’m sorry”, Nico whispers, backing away still. ”I just – I didn’t mean to – ” Will is still in shock, but if he wasn’t, he’d tell Nico it’s okay. It’s more than okay. He’d take Nico’s hand again and tell him everything’s fine. But he can’t, because he’s paralyzed, and he just watches as Nico walks backwards until he’s at the bottom of the stairway. ”I’m sorry.”

And then Nico runs up the stairs to, Will assumes, his old bedroom. Will can hear the door close behind him not long after.

It’s Bianca who finally snaps Will out of his trance. ”Go”, she says, her voice stern but caring, and when Will looks at her she has tears in her eyes. ”Go after him. We’ll finish here and go to bed ourselves. Make sure he gets some sleep.”

Will spares first a quick look at Hazel, who nods, then turns to look at the staircase. It brings back memories, and just like everything in this house, not all of them are good. Taking a deep breath, Will steels himself and follows Nico upstairs.

 _Boyfriend_. Will understands that Nico only said it to finally make Darcy leave, but the word echoes in Will’s skull as he walks up the stairs. It hurts, in a way, because he’s sure Nico didn’t mean anything with the word, not really. But at the same time he’s relieved, because surely they now have to address this… whatever it is they are. They used to be best friends, they used to be boyfriends. For so long they were nothing at all, and then Nico called Will his best friend again. Nico is the love of Will’s life, he’s sure of that now and he’s more or less ready to accept it as a fact of life, but what is he to Nico? Will isn’t sure he’ll like the answer to that.

Nico’s door looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. Will doesn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t; nevertheless, it surprises him a little. There’s a dent by the knob where Nico accidentally hit with a baseball bat when they were seven, and despite the situation Will smiles a little. He raises a hand to knock on the door, but before his knuckles touch the wood Nico swings the door open.

In the past few days, as well as on that dreadful day six years ago, Will has become very familiar with how Nico looks when he’s crying. Nico’s skin gets blotchy and his brows crunch together, and his lips tremble when he tries to keep the sobs in. He’s not very attractive like that, never has been. Without thinking Will raises a hand and wipes away some tears that fall on Nico’s cheek and chin, and Nico closes his eyes at the contact. In that moment he looks like he used to, he looks like Will’s Nico, the one he broke up with in this very room so long ago.

Nico takes ahold of Will’s wrist and pulls him inside the room. He doesn’t let Will go when the door closes, just takes both of his hands in his trembling ones and pulls him close. Will’s brain is on overdrive from the proximity, and he tries to breathe slowly to keep himself from becoming dizzy.

”Will”, Nico whispers, and he’s so close, so close that Will can feel his breath on the skin of his neck. ”Kiss me.”

Will wonders if he should have seen this coming. People have different mechanisms to cope with grief, and not all of them are good ones. Will thinks he should probably have been prepared for something like this, but it seems he has been too deep inside his own head to even imagine…

”Nico, I can’t”, he says, and he’s sure the pain is evident in his voice. ”I want to, but I can’t. You’re mourning, Nico, you’re emotional, I can’t – ”

”No.” Nico’s voice is flat and definitive. Will’s mouth snaps shut. ”You don’t get to do that. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you last walked out that door.” The tears are still streaming down Nico’s face. The shine brings out the gold in his eyes. ”This has nothing to do with my father being dead. Reject me if you want, but don’t use grief as an excuse.”

Will is almost sure that Nico knows he won’t be rejected. It must show in Will’s eyes, how much he still loves and needs and graves Nico, how much it hurts to keep his distance. Will has tried so hard to be good, and if this is a test then he’s definitely failing it. There’s no way he’s going to walk out of there in one piece anymore.

”Kiss me.” Nico’s voice is still broken, but the look in his eyes is determined, focused. Will feels a shiver run down his spine at the intensity. ”Kiss me, Will. Please.”

Will doesn’t think much when he leans in and presses their lips together. Maybe he means for it to be a short, simple kiss, or maybe he intents it to grow like it does. Whatever it is, he hadn’t counted on Nico’s mood, and as soon as their lips touch Nico is kissing him back, hungrily and purposefully, like he’s a drowning man and Will is the air he needs to breathe.

To be kissed like that, Will thinks later, is probably one of the easiest ways to make him lose control entirely. He lets out a muffled sound, close to a whimper and not far from a sigh, and kisses back, backing Nico until he can press him against the wall by the door. Nico takes in a sharp breath but doesn’t break the kiss, instead parting his lips and deepening it, throwing his arms around Will’s neck to bring their bodies as close as possible.

Will can taste the tears on Nico’s lips, and it’s not the first time, but it feels different, now. Nico bites his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and Will whimpers and pushes Nico harder against the wall, somehow not really caring if it hurts or not. He trusts Nico to tell him if it does.

Nico doesn’t say anything. He just pushes Will back so that he can turn the tables, and Will feels himself being pushed against the wall in turn. When he spares a look on Nico’s face, he can see where this is going, and knows he should stop it. He doesn’t.

They didn’t do this more than once, back then, and Will hasn’t been with many people since. His experience is very limited to basic situations in bed, which might be part of why this excites him so much. But then, who is he kidding – it’s Nico, it’s always been Nico, who makes his head spin and knees buck and heard happer against his chest. Nico, who picks Will’s leg and wraps it up around his hip and pushes forward slowly, grinding them together through their clothes, making Will drop his head back against the wall and sigh.

”Will”, Nico breathes against his neck, wet and desperate and a little broken, and Will is sure he’s never heard his name spoken quite like that. It sets fire to his veins and makes his throat dry. He tightens his hold on the back of Nico’s shirt. ”Will – ”

”I’m here”, Will barely manages to say, and he notices his own voice is just as wrecked as Nico’s. There’s something wonderful about that realization. ”I’m always here.”

Nico whimpers again, and rocks his hips forward, and soon they’re grinding in a steady rhythm. The pressure builds slowly, surprisingly so, and Will rakes his fingers through Nico’s hair, over and over, until he barely even recognizes the movement anymore. He knows there are words dripping from his lips, and he tries to catch some of them before it’s too late, but in the end he just gives up. Chances are Nico won’t even notice, and if he does, he can worry about it later.

Will can feel Nico’s hands on his hips, trying to push his trousers down with not much success. ”Off.” The soft command is whispered against his collar, and Will catches Nico’s head in his hands, bringing their lips together again.

Will remembers Nico’s kisses from six years ago, how they were gentle and soft through everything, how his lips were smooth like velvet and always tasted like heaven. Now, Nico presses against him urgently, all teeth and tongue and hitched breaths, and he tastes like black coffee and salty tears. Will doesn’t think the kisses are any less perfect, they’re just so different that it’s almost startling, and he wonders briefly if this is the same person at all.

It’s not, Will thinks. Not really. The Nico Will new six years ago is long gone, possibly since the day they broke up. Will knows this, because he himself hasn’t been the same person after that. Every relationship changes a person, he has heard, and he knows that the one with Nico changed him the most. But even though they are different people now, Will likes to think that they can find something from each other again – even if it’s just comfort for one night.

(A voice in the back of Will’s head says that he’s going to be hurt worse than ever by this. He effectively shuts that voice up by biting Nico’s lower lip, almost drawing blood and making Nico groan deep from his throat.)

By the time Will’s trousers hit the floor Nico is already in his boxers, and Will is a little taken aback by the tattoos on his chest. There are at least a dozen of them, small and so close together that it’s hard to tell where one starts and another begins. For a brief moment Will is mesmerized by the edges, some soft and some sharp, all blurring together to create unique designs on the skin that Will knows to be smooth and warm.

But then Nico is pushing Will against the wall again, and Will’s breath leaves him in a rush, and he decides that he will find time to admire the tattoos later. Because as fascinating as they are, right now there’s nothing that can beat the feel of skin against skin, lips against lips, as their hips roll together to find enough friction to make them see stars.

”Will”, Nico says again, and again, and Will’s head spins. Nico’s hands are everywhere at once, but never close enough to give Will any real satisfaction. ”I – please, I need – ”

”Yes.” _Anything_. Will takes Nico’s face to his hands again, forces their eyes to meet. ”Do it, Nico.”

It’s probably not wise to let an emotionally unstable man take any comfort he can off your body. Will knows this. But he doesn’t care enough about what is wise and what’s not to make them stop, and one of Nico’s hands finally finds it’s way down the front of Will’s underwear. Will shuts out the voice that says _wrongwrongwrong_ , instead adding volume to the one chanting _yesyesYES_ , and when Nico brings their lips together to a rough kiss he isn’t afraid to show just how enthusiastic he is about this.

In the end, the whole night is messy and fast paced and full of tears but lacking finesse. Will comes twice, both times across Nico’s stomach and chest, covering the beautiful tattoos with his fluids in a way he isn’t sure he likes in this state of mind. After the second time Will lies exhausted in the bed, Nico still inside him but slipping, and for a moment everything stills. Will can hear no sound but their breaths, can feel nothing that isn’t Nico’s body against his. It’s like the outside world doesn’t exists, just like it was so many times back then, back when they used to be.

It’s eerie, in a way, but not necessarily bad. Will isn’t sure yet. Nico presses his lips to his jaw, suddenly soft and tender and not at all like the other kisses they’ve shared that day, and Will’s heart fills with warmth. It’s been years, but he still knows Nico, still understands him without words, and the way Nico’s arms and legs wrap themselves around Will’s body doesn’t leave much for interpretation.

”Stay”, Nico mutters anyway against his skin, perhaps in fear that Will could somehow had misunderstood. There are no tears left, just the stillness and calm, and Will closes his eyes and breathes.

 

 

 

**_six years ago_ **

 

As Will has predicted, it doesn’t sink in properly until the next week, when he realizes he hasn’t seen or heard from Nico for four whole days. He’s already reaching for his phone to call him when he remembers he shouldn’t, and then he’s shaking and throwing himself on his bed in an attempt to avoid the rest of the world.

Austin comes in to ask him to play basket ball, and Will sends him away with just a shrug. Mom comes by with lunch, but Will just takes one bite and pushes the rest away. Lee and Michael try to get Will interested in the new National Geography issue that just came in the mail, but Will can’t see the pictures, and the words of the articles blur together into a mass of black and white. If Dad tries to do his part, Will isn’t aware. He spends the whole day staring either at the wall or the ceiling without seeing either of them.

Will isn’t sure if he’s more angry, frustrated, or sad. Perhaps it’s an equal amount of all of those. Whatever it is, it makes Will feel miserable, unable to do much but stay in bed. He hates staying in bed. He would like to do something, anything, to keep his mind off Nico, but it’s like his muscles are refusing to work. So Will has to stay in bed, for a day and then another, and he hates every second of it. He hates it almost as much as he thinks he hates Nico.

(Will doesn’t hate Nico, not really. He could never actually hate Nico. But in his misery, in this strange limbo of anger and sadness, he almost believes he does.)

It’s Jake Mason who finally manages to get Will out of bed. Will is probably never going to find out if Jake ever knew Will and Nico were dating, but it’s just as well. Jake doesn’t mention Nico when he drags Will to the soccer field and makes him shoot goals so Jake can work on his defense.

”I need to be in good shape when I start at Brown this year”, Jake says, and Will briefly wonders why he can’t remember Jake ever talking about college before. Has he really been so focused on Nico, closed off in their own little bubble, that he has thoroughly neglected his other friendships? ”Coach says I’ll do fine, but I don’t want to be just _fine_. I want to be extraordinary.”

Jake talks a lot, that day. Will can’t remember Jake talking quite that much, and when he think about that he realizes he can’t remember the last time he hung out with someone other than Nico or his brothers. That realization is enough to make Will dizzy, and the next time he kicks the ball it flies nowhere near the goal. Jake doesn’t seem to mind that much.

Will doesn’t really want to spend the afternoon kicking a ball with Jake Mason, but he does it anyway. Then they walk home, and Jake shuttles the ball on the side walk and almost gets hit by a car. Will’s mom asks if Jake wants to stay for dinner, but Jake says no, and Will is kind of glad. He is thankful to Jake for getting him out of the house, but enough is enough. He sits on the front steps listening to Jake talk for a little while longer, and wonders if he should try to keep contact with Jake even when they go to college.

”Just so you know”, Jake says last when he’s already walking away, and Will squints his eyes to see against the setting sun. ”It’s okay to be upset. But try to get back on the bright side, yeah?”

Then Jake is running off, and Will is looking after him. He has no idea what Jake means, but it’s apparent Jake knows more than he’s letting on. _What a weirdo_ , Will thinks as Jake almost trips over his own feet and finally picks up the soccer ball. Will can’t for the life of him understand how the two of them never became better friends.

Jake didn’t manage to make Will forget about Nico entirely. No one is ever going to manage that; Nico is probably going to be at the back of Will’s mind for the rest of his life. But he did make Will think about something else for a moment, even if it was soccer.

With a small sigh, Will gets up and goes back inside. He doesn’t hear from Jake again.

 

 

 

**_present day_ **

 

Morning comes with blinding clarity, as it so often does. Will can feel his throat close up as soon as he registers he’s not the only one in the bed.

The events of the reception come back to Will in a rush, and he doesn’t move. He can feel Nico still asleep against his side, their naked bodies touching from chest to hips to thighs, still filthy from the lack of clean up after sex. There are many things there that Will can regret, but as a whole, the previous night isn’t one of them. Maybe later he will regret it, but not now, not with Nico’s soft breaths across his collar bones and an arm draped over his chest.

Will cracks his eyes open, and though it’s still early, the morning light flickers through the window and paints Nico’s skin golden. He’s forgotten about that, how Nico looks like he’s carved out of precious metals when the light is just right. It takes Will’s breath away, and he’s suddenly very much awake, watching as Nico’s lashes create dancing shadows on his cheek bones. There’s stubble, too, a mere shadow really, and to Will it makes Nico look like some male model from a magazine cover. It’s rather unfair to look like that, Will thinks.

Slowly, carefully, Will gets up from the bed, cautious not to wake Nico. He gathers some clothes and tiptoes to the bathroom, the route so familiar it gives him a sense of déjà-vu, and takes a few extra minutes there to compose himself.

The thing is, even though Will doesn’t regret last night, he can’t let it happen again. Not like that, not before they get a chance to talk about things. And when Will says _things_ , he means every single little thing they have avoided in the past week. Or the past six years. Will is aware there are things he should have said too many times, too long ago, and never said. He needs to let those things out now, sooner rather than later, before he can continue in any way – with or without Nico.

(Though, let’s face it. Will would it rather be with Nico. But that’s not a choice he can make on his own.)

When Will returns to Nico’s bedroom, Nico is awake. He’s sitting up, the duvet pooling around his hips, and Will blushes a little when he notes the bruises along his sides, shaped like finger tips. Nico is running his hands through his hair, rubbing the skin under the buzz cut and combing the tangles out of the longer strands with his fingers. He looks gorgeous, and Will can’t stop his heart from skipping a beat.

”Hey”, Nico says when he looks up, a little sheepish. He doesn’t meet Will’s eyes.

”Hi.” Will approaches carefully, making sure nothing in Nico’s stance indicates he’s even slightly put off. Sitting on the bed and wishing his boxers covered even half an inch more of his thighs, Will picks at the corner of the duvet and looks somewhere past Nico’s right shoulder. ”How are you?”

Why is this so awkward? Will doesn’t want things to be awkward with Nico, but he figures this is how it’s got to be for now. At least until they talk things through.

”I – ” Nico starts, then clears his throat and closes his mouth again. They sit in silence for a few moments, avoiding each other’s gazes and aching to touch but keeping their hands to themselves. It’s an all new kind of torture. ”This is awkward”, Nico says then, slumping back on his back and throwing an arm across his face. ”And confusing. Give me a second and then I’m going to talk, okay?”

Will knows this tactic. Back when they were teenagers, Nico used to have trouble gathering his thoughts if he had too many visual distractions. Math tests especially used to be a pain in the ass, and Will remembers several occasions when Nico had to close his eyes during a serious conversation or an argument to figure out what he wanted to say, to remember how words work. No, Will watches as Nico takes deep breaths, and he’s happy that some things don’t change.

”Okay.”

Will uses the silence watching Nico’s chest rise and fall with breaths. He has now a little time to look at the tattoos properly, and he thinks it shouldn’t be such a shock to realize they’re all religious symbols. Not portrayed in the most traditional way, but Will can see at least a cross, and a triangle, and the ichthys, all weaved together with swirls and vines and words in Italian that Will can’t understand. It’s hypnotizing and beautiful, and Will wishes that one day he can ask Nico for the reasons behind the tattoos, the translations behind the words.

When Nico start talking, his voice is calm and calculated, like he wants to keep his emotions secret from Will for as long as he can. Will isn’t so sure he can blame Nico for that; he’d probably do the same.

”Last night was… intense.” _Well, that’s one way to put it_. ”And I’m not only talking about the sex. It’s – I think I underestimated the affect father’s passing had on me. I shouldn’t have unleashed that on you, and I’m sorry.”

”Nico – ”

”No, please.” One of Nico’s hands moves, searching blindly for Will until his fingers close around Will’s wrist. ”Let me talk.” Will’s skin tingles at the contact, but he turns his hand until he can lace his fingers with Nico’s. It’s answer enough. ”I’m sorry for jumping you like that. I said last night that it had nothing to do with father’s death, but I think that it did, a little bit. Not for the most part, and I want to think we would have come together eventually regardless. But…”

With a sigh, Nico turns on his side, keeping his eyes closed and his hand in Will’s. ”I came out to my father and sisters just last year, around the time of Hazel’s high school graduation. I – I know that me not telling my parents was one of our biggest issues when we – when we were dating. It’s all messed up, and I admit us breaking up was one of the reasons it took me so long to get my shit together, but I finally did it last year, and Will, you were the first person I wanted to talk to afterwards. I just couldn’t, not then. I… I guess I needed more time.

”Father didn’t kick me out when I told him, but that might be just because I no longer lived in the house. Things got rough, and he didn’t talk to me for almost ten months after that. It wasn’t until Hazel called me about father being diagnosed with the coronary artery disease that I came to see him again, and we talked things through.”

Nico talks quietly, softly, and Will lets the words curl around his heart and make it ache. He wishes he could have been there for Nico during those ten months, during those six years they didn’t keep in touch, but he knows why he wasn’t. He has started to accept that maybe it was all necessary for them both to grow up on their own, without the fear of suffocating the other.

”I’ve done a lot of thinking, these past years, and especially in the past months”, Nico continues. His fingers are tracing patterns to Will’s hand, and in another setting it could be distracting, but now it’s just grounding. His other hand is once again holding on to the cross around his neck. ”I know you never really agreed with the faith they taught us about at school, and I’ve been sensing you still don’t. And that’s okay. But I think you know that I need that faith, and that regardless of whether I’ll be accepted as a gay man into the community or not, I will still choose to believe.

”Because it’s not a matter of actually _believing_ ”, Nico says then, and while Will is certain this is not a way of talking sister Hannah would approve, it might very well be the smartest thing Will has ever heard anyone say. ”It’s a matter of _wanting_ to believe, of being willing to, and then acting on that. I want to believe that there can be a place for gay people in the Catholic church, and maybe somewhere that is already true. Maybe some day it will be true everywhere. The main point is that I believe in that, and I believe in _this_ ”, Nico holds the cross a little tighter, ”and that has to be enough. I have to believe that it’s enough, because otherwise I think I would crumble.” 

Will has never thought that Nico is slow or stupid, but he thinks that he’s only now starting to understand just how deep his understanding is in the matters of belief – and probably many others. Will can only claim to understand a little of what Nico is saying, and Nico clearly has spend hours upon hours thinking about this, possibly researching and talking to others. It’s very admirable. Will doesn’t think he’ll personally ever feel at home in the Catholic church, not the way he used to as a kid, but he’s incredibly happy that Nico finds comfort in it.

”I went a little off track.” Nico’s voice gets, if possible, even softer, and he sits up on the bed. ”But, you see, I spent a lot of time trying to find myself as a gay man and as a Catholic, but my father only accepted one of those versions of me. He accepted me as his Catholic son, he _expected_ that of me, but even when we were in speaking terms again he couldn’t accept that I was – that I am gay. And I knew he was going to die, so I had to make my peace with the fact that my father would die without recognizing a major part of who I am.” Nico takes a deep breath and turns Will’s palm in his hand, tracing the lines across. ”It wasn’t easy, especially since for the past year I have been more than ready to contact you again.”

Will’s heart thumps painfully at the words.

Nico had said he’s wanted to kiss Will since they broke up. He’d said so last night, and now the words ring in Will’s ears as he watches Nico draw mindless patterns on the back of his hand with his finger. Will still isn’t sure this is a healthy time to pursue a relationship, but if…

”So you understand now”, Nico almost whispers, ”that I’ve been an emotional mess for the past few days. Being so close to you, and knowing that the rest of my remaining family would accept us, and at the same time… my father… I guess Darcy showing up was kind of the last straw. I was on edge all day already, and then…”

Will swallows thickly and looks at their joined hands, then the window behind Nico. The sun has risen, and Will knows from years past that in a few hours it will shine straight to the window, making the room a little too warm. He isn’t sure if he’ll have enough courage to say what he really wants, if he’ll ever be brave enough, but he also knows that he won’t get a chance like this again. Nico is already talking about it. Why shouldn’t Will?

”Sometimes I’d eat a strawberry and wonder…” Will takes a deep breath. This is it. After he says this he can’t go back anymore. After this he’s either got everything or he’s ruined it all. ”I’d wonder if they’ll ever stop tasting like you.”

Nico’s hand swims into Will’s vision then, gently cupping his cheek. When Will looks at Nico, he’s got a strange kind of look in his eyes, like he can’t quite decide if this is a dream or not. Will thinks that if this is a dream he’d rather not wake up at all.

”I thought that too, for a while.” It’s like Nico’s voice is running honey on Will’s soul, warm and soothing, repairing the cracks on his heart that were left there for too long.  ”It wasn’t until recently that I learned…”

The kiss Nico gives Will now is a lot like coming home. While it isn’t fumbling and awkward like their first one almost ten years ago, it’s still just as careful and hesitant. It’s like they’ve come a full circle with the way Nico’s lips move across Will’s, relearning them and their feel and their taste. It makes Will’s eyes close and sting with unshed tears, and he weaves one of his hands to Nico’s hair – and that’s different, because Nico’s hair is so short now, and the buzz on the lower part feels really nice on Will’s fingers.

It’s all sorts of wonderful, how there are so many new things to discover, hiding behind the old stuff. Will swears he’s never going to let this slip through his fingers again, not ever.

”It’s not the strawberries.” Nico’s lips are soft, so soft, and Will sighs happily when they won’t stop kissing his. ”It’s you.”


End file.
